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The Poetry of Real Life

A New Edition, Much Enlarged and Improved. By Henry Ellison
 

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ON AN ANCIENT CASTLE IN RUINS, SAVE ONE PORTION, WHICH FORMS A KIND OF DWELLING.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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ON AN ANCIENT CASTLE IN RUINS, SAVE ONE PORTION, WHICH FORMS A KIND OF DWELLING.

Nature hath been at work on these old walls—
The turf has grown, in green mounds, up their sides—
And the thick ivy (as seaweed the tides
Of ages) here the rises and the falls
Of Time's great ocean, the successive calls
Of Nature, registers: as each year hides,
With its fresh growth, some emblem that divides
Man's ways from hers, and throws its leafy palls
Stilly o'er their forgotten destinies!
So let them pass: while the soft summer-winds
Sigh out their dirge—for nothing good e'er dies!
Nature, who with her flowers yon' loopholes blinds,
Still fosters more enduring sympathies,
And gently from old errors Man's heartstrings unwinds!